


Just a fairy tale

by imaginationandheartbreak (alexgrey)



Series: Tumblr prompts [3]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who RPF
Genre: Elevator Sex, F/M, Flirting, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-11 09:33:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1171485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexgrey/pseuds/imaginationandheartbreak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She can feel her cunt actually pulse and she squeezes her walls deliciously, expertly, a hidden rhythm as they walk and she’s maybe even more turned on knowing that she could maybe make herself come just walking here beside him, his body so close, hers reaching for him.  It was a talent of hers.  This is so wrong, Alex thinks. It feels so good.  He’ll never know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a fairy tale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lifeinaperceptionfilter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeinaperceptionfilter/gifts).



> lifeinaperceptionfilter asked: Prompt if you're still taking them: Mattex. Not established. After sexually frustrating each other all day and both looking forward to "alone time" to rid the tension, the elevator they're sharing breaks down, and they're stuck. Do they endure more frustration or solve the tension together?

They’re filming “Flesh and Stone” … and if Matt had thought filming “The Time of Angels” had been tricky, this was surely going to kill him.  This morning Alex Kingston, wearing form-fitting fatigues, had sat next to him at the picnic table and had actually put her hand on his thigh. Doubtless all innocence – the flirting from her side was all surface - but he’d had to leave  - physically move - since even that single, stupid touch from her insanely sexy hand had made him hard.  What didn’t he want to do to her?  God, so untouchable in any real sense. And so, so sexy.  By the time he’d reached his trailer, shut the door, cupping himself through his trousers even before he could think to work his zipper, they were already calling him back to set. Shit.  The beach scene.  He tried to think of anything but Alex’s ass in that outfit, the way her neck curved, her hand hot on his thigh, his need to grab her by the waist and… SHIT!  Focus.   
  
The cold winds meant he’d at least get to wear a coat until the very last second.  As soon as he’d grabbed one and bounded out the door, though, the picture in his head was of Alex, again Alex, spread out on that fucking picnic table, letting him lift one knee over his shoulder as he drove himself into her again and again… making her moan his name…  
  
 “umm… Matt?”  SHIT!   
  
“Alex… hi, love. Just… going over our lines.” He hoped he hadn’t been moaning.  
  
She was wrapped in a coat, too. Dear fuck, he was imagining her naked underneath it. Help.

 “I love this scene,” she was saying “… though I do wish I was the one who got to lean into you to say that line.”  
  
 “What line?”  
  
Alex raises a surprised eyebrow. “And you were just going over them?” Then she leans in and Matt freezes as if she might kiss him but, instead, Alex brings her body impossibly close to his, as close as is physically possible without actually touching and he swears he can feel the energy pulse between them.  Then her lips are at his ear, pushing low, sultry sounds into his head: “that’s just a fairy tale.” And she brings her hips to his for just a second, he swears she does, and he tilts his hips in answer, unbidden.  
  
  
*  
  
She wants to lick him. Starting at his ear, sure, but trailing down, biting across his clavicle, running a hand along his ass, kissing him deeply; hungrily. She looks at him then and licks her lips and notes with satisfaction the way he mirrors her perfectly.  She knows it’s reflex, doesn’t really _mean_ anything, but still… oh, that devil tongue.  She briefly lets herself imagine Matt Smith’s tongue plunging into her cunt, probing and electric, before circling her clit expertly and… oh GOD stop it, Alex!  She smiles guiltily and shifts toward him, just the tiniest bit, and heat rushes from her stomach to her clit when he does the same.  Bloody hell he will kill her.  It’s all in good fun for him– she knows this – but SHIT her chemistry with him is insane.  She shouldn’t like to torture herself like this, but she kinda does. And as much as she relishes the chance to flirt with Matt as River this afternoon, she’s more than ready to get home, get naked and fix this.  Filming Who is a full 10 hours of foreplay, she decides and she needs a date with her rabbit.   
  
  
“Places!”   
  
*  
  
“Can you two minimize the eye-sex? Please?”  The director is clearly aggravated now. They keep having to retake the scene and Alex isn’t sure if it’s Matt or if it’s her… maybe because she can’t get enough of Matt leaning into her, all hot whispers and maybe she’s messing it up … but they both look down to the sand now. And when they look up Alex is all business:  right, then – finish the scene so she can race back to the hotel and fuck Matt Smith slowly in her dreams.  The next take is perfect.  
  
*  
  
“Heading back, Alex?”  
  
“Um… yeah…” They were filming in Gloucestershire for the episode and staying at the same hotel. Oh, exquisite torture. “Shall we go together, then?” she offers brightly - friendly, she hopes - tugging his hand and loving the weight of it in hers, not to mention Matt’s sideways glance. She can feel her cunt actually pulse and she squeezes her walls deliciously, expertly, a hidden rhythm as they walk and she’s maybe even more turned on knowing that she could maybe make herself come just walking here beside him, his body so close, hers reaching for him.  It was a talent of hers.  This is _so_ wrong, Alex thinks. It feels _so_ good.  He’ll never know.  
  
Matt sneaks a sideways glance and hopes his palms aren’t too obviously hot and nervous.  He could swear she looks like she’s… blushing. Really? So he gives her hand a soft ambiguous squeeze and she actually stops walking for just a second.  
  
Shit – did he almost make me come with a squeeze of his fucking _hand_? She needs to get home now – it’s too guilty-crazy being with him and feeling like this … but so, so hot, too.  And she looks to the pavement but she’s still wet, needy, clenching… imagining him just touching her in ordinary ways  in ordinary places – shoulder, waist, knee -  and how she would shatter.  
  
Is it weird they’re not talking?  It’s weird, Matt thinks.  But why?  
  
When they arrive at the hotel they slip in the back door and call for the service elevator, as instructed – a small group of fans camping out front for the past two days has made it tricky to get in quickly and, well, it’s better not to arrive than to barge past and disappoint.  It’s not that he’s tired, Matt thinks, and he loves the fans, it’s just that he needs… fuck… he thought he needed to go jerk off to images of a windswept, winking Alex Kingston and he’s been waiting too long today already.  But it’s even better now, more urgent… he needs to jerk off to the memory of this exact second, the one he’s living right now – Alex flushed and blushing and so, so beautiful. She’s still holding his hand. He needs to place it on his cock, to move their hands together along his erection. He tries to still his mind so Alex somehow doesn’t psychically catch on.  He curls his hand into a ball so he’s now inside her soft fist and wonders if she’ll move away. She doesn’t.  Finally inside you, he laughs to himself.  
  
 _I need to let go of his hand_ , she thinks.  And does, and presses the button for the top floor.  And tries not to notice Matt’s hand resting now in front of his crotch.  Wishful thinking, Alex.  The large elevator creeks closed and begins a painfully slow ascent and they both find themselves staring variously at the floor, the buttons, the ceiling.  
  
“It will be good to get back and relax” she offers.  
  
“Yeah, I’m knackered,” Matt replies.  
  
 _Oh, I would so help you to relax, Ms. Kingston._  
  
 _Let me help you off with those pants and put you to bed, Mr. Smith…_  
  
“It was fun today, darling” Alex finally says, but her words are drowned out by a clang and the frightening sound of scraping metal and then, utter quiet. Shit, the elevator has stopped.  
  
“Matt?”  
  
“Not my fault!” he squeaks.  
  
She smiles.  “Of course not.  I’m just a bit nervous with lifts at the best of times.”  
  
“I’m sure it will start up soon.  Maybe there’s a call button.”  
  
There isn’t one, so Matt bangs on the corrugated siding: “Hello? Could use a bit of help up here!” Hopefully someone will hear them.  
  
“Is there anything you need, Alex?” _Ya, a good fuck_ , Alex thinks.  But she really does hate lifts, and being trapped, ever… and is this thing rocking, just a bit?  
  
“Let’s sit down, Matt, ok? I think the lift’s rocking.”           
  
“Sure… yeah.” He slumps to the floor beside her, quickly throwing his bag over his lap and grabs his phone. No signal.  “Sorry, love, can’t call.”  
  
“Fuck.” Alex is beyond frustrated.    
  
“I wish,” Matt ventures, making his voice low enough that it could be teasing. Maybe. But it was said too slowly.  It was out of line.  He can’t look at her.  
  
Silence.  
  
Alex doesn’t look at him, either, but she does reach out her hand again to cup his  purposefully… a hot, enveloping, promising hand.  Shit.  Penny in the air.  
  
What the hell. Matt grabs his bag with his free hand and places it slowly on the floor and then brings her hand to his erection. Just like his fantasy, only this is so much better because her hand shakes and is real and now – holy jesus – she’s letting out a ragged breath and that is ALL he needs to hear, turning quickly to get on top of her, trapping her hands between their bodies, his own hands reaching for her hips before pressing his lips to hers, his tongue greedy and insistent, his hips now rocking and he can feel her hands unzipping her pants, shimmying underneath him until he presses his whole body against hers to still it before grabbing her waistband and yanking down her pants in a single motion, dragging green silk underwear down with it and he can see it’s already wet, so wet, and he whistles a low “oh my bad, bad, girl” as she arches toward him with a breathy ‘please.’  
  
And then he’s unzipped and lining himself up against her and she nods ‘yes’ and he pushes in slowly. “Fuck, Alex, I have been thinking about doing this all day. All week…” He can barely speak but forces a last few words:  “look what you do to me.”  
  
Alex’s breath is also ragged, she’s been so close for HOURS and now it’s happening … “your teasing… so good… I come every night thinking about you…”  
  
He breaks rhythm then … fuck… what?…. and she’s worried she’s said too much… but it’s only a second before he pounds back into her, faster, more urgently, it’s somehow impossibly hotter  and his hands are at her clit and she has to scream into his shoulder now, biting him to try – fuck – to keep just a bit quiet, but it’s too late, too good, too far past it.  
  
“Every night… every night” he’s saying now “Tell me … you want this …. every night, Alex.”  And she nods yes and crawls into him, and she hopes this fucking creaking elevator never, ever moves, as she pulls his body deeper into her with grasping feet.


End file.
